A Flash of Amber
by Pendragon Of Azkaban
Summary: In a new age between legend and myth, past and present, a flash of amber can consume your life. Morgana is scared her dreams are just the beginning, but what scares her more is meeting a man who makes them bearable.
1. A Shimmer Of Sapphires

**A/N Hey everyone, this is the first fanfiction I've written by myself, so I hope you like it! Hopefully I'll update every week…but if not…sorry in advance. I'm planning a fairly long story involving as many characters as possible. Here's chapter 1!**

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**Chapter 1 - A Shimmer of Sapphires**

Morgana was shaking. Beads of sweat were forming on her forehead, her throat was dry, and her eyelids were fluttering madly. Emerald eyes occasionally flashed under her pale skin, tinted with amber. She was gasping in her sleep, gulping down air as if it would be the last she would ever have. Without warning, her eyes snapped open, orange faded to green, and she screamed.

Her door was flung open, and a young woman, pretty with short, dark curls ran to Morgana.

"Are you alright?" she asked feebly, sitting on the edge of the bed. Morgana sighed shakily.

"I'm fine. I'm sorry Gwen, I didn't mean to wake you again," Morgana said wearily. Gwen shook her head.

"Don't worry about that, I just wanted to make sure you were ok," Gwen smiled. Morgana nodded, unsticking herself from the sheets as she sat up.

"Another nightmare?" Gwen said tentatively. Morgana locked eyes with Gwen, biting her lip.

"It was different, this time…" Morgana began, and she was thrown vividly back into the start of her enigmatic dreams…

_The sun is hot, soaking up in my skin, and I close my eyes for a second as I absorb the heat. I turn, and gaze at the waterfall which is cascading down in exquisite colours, foamy white, metallic silver, a stunning deep blue which shimmers like sapphires in the sunlight. The rush of water pounds through my ears, but it's a softening, relaxing sound. Suddenly, the corners of the world seem to fade away, changing to black as they float of the edge off the planet, and before long, everything dissolves in a fizzing mist…_

_I can't hear anything except my own panting breaths. I can't smell anything, or feel anything, or taste anything. My eyes are open, because they're aching, because I don't want to blink, because if I blink, I might forget when my eyes are open and when they are closed. And, suddenly, the world is turned on its side, I tumble through solid darkness, my mind is powered by something murderous, I manage to scream as I twist in nothingness, and…_

"Morgana?" Gwen said anxiously. Morgana looked up, blinking as she remembered her surroundings.

"You don't think it's a little strange, that I can remember all my dreams?" Morgana whispered. Gwen hesitated.

"I don't know...not really. I remember my dreams," Gwen said. Morgana shook her head, almost desperately.

"No, Gwen, I can remember every exact detail of every exact dream I've ever had. It's all so…real." Morgana swallowed.

"I…I don't know. What was different this time?" Gwen encouraged. Morgana shifted uncomfortably; she was being patronised. But underneath all the encouragement, Morgana could see that Gwen was just as scared as she was.

"Usually it's just the darkness, the sensation of being thrown about. It sounds pathetic, I know, but in the dream I feel like I'm dying," Morgana said, taking a deep breath, "But this time, there was something at the start…a waterfall, it was an amazing blue colour, and the sun…but then it went back to the darkness, and I woke up screaming." Gwen sighed.

"Listen, maybe there's some medicine you could –" Gwen tried.

"No, Gwen, no, just…don't." Morgana interrupted, "I just don't want anyone to tell me it's too close to…" Morgana paused, bit her lip, and whispered, "_Magic_." Gwen winced at the word. She knew, as Morgana did, that even saying the word could get you into serious trouble with C.A.M.E.L.O.T, let alone being able to perform it.

"You want a cup of tea?" Gwen said brightly, jumping up from the bed. Morgana laughed.

"I'll get it," she offered, climbed out of bed, and followed her best friend to the kitchen.

They lived in a large, modern apartment in the centre of London, conveniently close to the university they both attended. The apartment was owned my Morgana's father, Gorlois. It was elaborately furnished, with stunning leather coaches and a huge plasma TV.

Gwen switched it on, flicking lazily through the channels, and finding nothing particularly interesting on, she turned to the news. A huge title flashed up, "Vivienne's confirmed execution tomorrow morning under order of Uther Pendragon, Head of C.A.M.E.L.O.T, for crimes of performing magic." Gwen bit her lip anxiously, and immediately searched for the remote to change channels, but Morgana had already entered the room carrying the drinks. She placed them down on the coffee table, picked up the remote from the spotless white carpet, and turned up the volume.

"It is unknown who Vivienne's family and friends were, any documents she may have owned have mysteriously disappeared, but a girl claiming to be her step daughter agreed to speak to us," a business -like news reporter said. The screen switched to the interview room. A girl of around their age was sitting on a long sofa, sipping water. She looked exhausted and drained, but there was still something pretty about her eyes, and the way her blond curls fell round her face.

"So, Morgause," the news reporter began gently, "Can you tell us any last exchanges you remember with your stepmother?"

"I've never spoken to her in my life," Morgause said bluntly, setting her water down on the table. The news reporter frowned.

"So…she was your stepmother?" he clarified.

"No. She had a child with my father," Morgause said. The news reporter blinked. Cheeks flaming, he unzipped his briefcase and dived into the documents, scanning his notes and ruffling papers.

"It says just here, right here, that you are Vivienne's stepdaughter," he said desperately, jabbing the paper with his stubby finger.

"Well of course it does, I needed to make it sound official," Morgause snapped. The news reporter stared. Gwen glanced at Morgana; she was gazing blankly at the television. Clearly, this made no sense to her, either.

"So you don't even _know _her?" the news reporter said incredulously.

"No, I don't know her. I don't give a damn about her. But when she's killed, that will break my fathers' heart, and only one person is to blame for that. Uther Pendragon." Morgause spat out his name.

"You could hardly blame him for doing his job," the news reporter reasoned quietly, shifting uncomfortably in the seat opposite Morgause.

"His job? What kind of a job is murdering people? And that's not what I meant." The news reporter waited awkwardly.

"Uther enchanted my mother. He tricked her into believing she was in love with him, and not her own husband. She had his child, and then Uther made her his fucking wife."

His mouth dropped open.

"You're talking about _Igraine_?" he exclaimed, "But you can't possibly know who her first husband was, no one knows that…"

"Well, I do," Morgause said smoothly, "He's my father."

"Who _is _your father?" the news reporter pressed.

"It doesn't matter who he is," Morgause said, and to the news reporter's surprise, her voice began to tremble, "It matters what he will become when his second love isn't around anymore. I've watched him go through it the first time; I don't want to see it again. You see a man so strong become so weak and fragile…" Tears were overflowing in her eyes, "Vivienne was killed because she had magic. She didn't do anything wrong. She lit a fire with her eyes. Uther is blind with his hatred for magic because it reminds him of what he did to his wife."

"It doesn't matter, anyway," she continued in a whisper, "My father…he's already gone." The interview ended rather abruptly, and Gwen quickly grabbed the remote and pressed the off button. She turned to Morgana and gasped quietly – Morgana had tears trickling down her cheeks.

* * *

Arthur stabbed the remote, and the interview snapped to black. He stared at the blank screen for a few moments, attempting to understand what the hell had been going on. Taking a deep breath, he turned to face Uther Pendragon, his father, who was standing behind him. Uther's face was white.

"Why the fuck were they allowed to show that interview?" he shouted.

"It was live; they didn't know what she was going to say…" Arthur said hesitantly. Uther paced round the room.

"No one's going to believe her," Arthur reassured him, "She already lied about who she was, and that whole story could have been made up, to put us out of business."

"But if she knows what she says she does…" Uther persisted.

"How can she?" Arthur said quickly, "Clearly, the whole thing is just at attempt to threaten our company. People will know that. They're not stupid." He knew better than to ask who his mother's first husband was, Uther would never tell him that. He watched his father leave the room, and couldn't help but feel slightly intrigued about the interview. If it was true, which he strongly believed it wasn't, then that girl would be his half-sister.

He grabbed his jacket and shrugged into it as he closed the door. He took the stairs rather than the lift downstairs, increasing his pace slightly as he jogged down the steps. Arthur reached the foyer, and a little impatient, joined the short queue of people waiting to exit the building through the metal detectors and security. The foyer was impressively grand, with a selection of comfortable chairs and tables complete with elegant foods and drinks offered for free. On the huge, white walls was the letters C.A.M.E.L.O.T in a deep red, and underneath Conservation Of Magic Enchantment Learning Or Teaching inscribed in a yellow scrawl. Arthur surveyed in surroundings as he neared the front of the queue, everyone seemed calm and relaxed – obviously nobody had seen the interview yet. Sighing, Arthur passed through the metal detectors, collected his keys and watch from the small tray that had been shoved through the baggage detectors, and he stepped outside, heading for the sleek, silver Jaguar parked at the front of the building. He made for his car quickly, aware that he had little of his lunch break left, when someone rammed into his shoulder hard.

"Hey!" Arthur snapped, turning around indignantly. A dark haired stranger frowned at him. He had blue-grey eyes, high cheekbones, and was wearing a similar expression to Arthur.

"You bumped into me," Merlin said, irritated.

"I'm sorry, what was that?" Arthur said dangerously.

"Why is it so hard to say sorry?" Merlin said, shaking his head incredulously. Arthur laughed suddenly, understanding this person had no idea who he was.

"Do I know you?" Arthur said, his tone tinged with threat.

"I'm Merlin," he said, frowning slightly.

"So I don't know you. Yet you seem to be telling me to apologize…you don't think that's a little arrogant, _Merlin_?" Arthur's lips tilted upwards as he emphasised Merlin's name.

"Well you'd know all about arrogance," Merlin muttered cuttingly.

"Do you know anything about right-hooks, Merlin? I can show you, if you'd like." Merlin laughed under his breath.

"I'd like to see you try," Merlin murmured, snorting.

"I should warn you," Arthur threatened, drawing himself up to his full height, "I've been training to kill since birth."

"Oh yeah? And how long have you been training to be a prat?" Merlin smiled pleasantly. Arthur drew his fists, and punched Merlin in the jaw. Grimacing, Merlin attempted to hit Arthur, but Arthur caught his arm and twisted it behind his back.

"I could get you arrested for that," Arthur snapped in his ear.

"Who do you think you are, Uther Pendragon?" Merlin spat.

"No," Arthur replied, gripping Merlin's arm tightly, "I'm his son, Arthur." With that he let Merlin go, who resisted from rubbing his arm and glared at Arthur. Arthur shook his head, sighing, and opened the door to his car as Merlin approached the doors of C.A.M.E.L.O.T.

* * *

Morgana picked up a carton of milk, examined it, and placed it in her basket. She moved to the sandwiches section, searching for her favourite ham salad. A man moved to stand beside her; she caught a glimpse of his strong arms and hot blond hair. She spotted the ham salad and reached for it, the same moment the man beside her did. She glanced up at him, and forced back a gasp - he was beautifully, insanely handsome.

"Here," he grinned, and handed her the sandwich. Morgana smiled, taking it from his hand.

"Thanks," she murmured, her eyes flickering to his.

Morgana stumbled backwards. His eyes, shimmering like sapphires in the sun, consisted of the exact foamy white, metallic silver and the stunning blue she remembered from her dream.


	2. The Crumpled Ham Sandwich

**A/N First of all, thanks to everyone who reviewed/favourite/followed the last chapter! It was great to receive all the emails and really encouraged me to write more! I think I'm a little late updating...but it's a fairy long chapter so enjoy!**

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Arthur frowned as the beautiful woman before him stumbled backwards, her emerald eyes wide and filled with fear.

"Are you alright?" Arthur asked quickly, holding out an arm in front to steady her. She swallowed nervously.

"I have to go," she whispered, and turned away from him.

"Wait!" Arthur shouted, and his arm reached to grip onto hers, pulling her back gently to face him.

"Is there anything I can do?" Arthur continued, analysing her face for any kind of explanation. He had never felt like this before – an overwhelming urge to talk to her, and find out what was wrong, to help her in any way he could.

The girl flickered her gaze tentatively to his, seemingly searching for something within the depths of his eyes. Abruptly, she looked down, and her panic washed over her expression.

"Thank you, but I have to go," she repeated. Lips trembling, she tugged her arm out of his, and turned, running swiftly along the aisle. Arthur leaned forward, only just stopping himself from running after her. His foot crunched on a package lying neglected on the ground. He frowned, and reached for the crumpled parcel, vaguely curious. He sighed when he saw the ham salad. He hadn't even noticed she'd dropped it.

* * *

Merlin hid his shaking hands from view as he slipped into the unoccupied chair opposite Uther Pendragon. His throat was dry, and he was desperate to gulp down the glass of water on the table, but he was too afraid to reach out and take it.

"So Merlin," Uther began, lying back in his leather chair and reading through the notes in his hand, "You've never worked in any business company before?"

"No, sir," Merlin said, relieved to hear his voice, at least, was confident, "This is the first time I've applied for a job in this area."

"What do you think separates you from all the other applicants?" Uther was now watching him with a little more interest, he was sitting straight and the notes were back on the table.

"I'm hardworking, smart and I don't like giving up," Merlin tried. He could see that this was not something new, and a slightly bored expression crossed Uther's face. Merlin hated himself for what he said next, but he braced himself and said it anyway.

"What really separates me though, is my hatred for magic. I'm not afraid of it, like some applicants will be, and I don't just have a strong dislike for magic, I loathe it, and that's why I applied, sir." Merlin could see he had Uther's full attention now, and continued.

"It's something disgusting and twisted that needs to be wiped out, and I'm not stupid enough to think that can be done peacefully. Your business is known for being harsh and sometimes unfair, but when magic is concerned, that's fine with me. I want to help." Merlin's confidence had grown with the look of interest, even respect that had appeared on Uther's lined face. Merlin took a sip of water, and lay back in his chair, mimicking Uther's cool and self-assured presence that had intimidated him only a few minutes ago.

"I like that," Uther admitted. He sighed, glanced down at the papers again and shook his head.

"Unfortunately, Merlin, we don't really have a position for you. You're not trained; you wouldn't be able to deal with the field situations, magical creatures, that type of thing. That's for the armed officers, and it would take years for you to move up to that status." Merlin's stomach welled with butterflies. Was this it, then? Was it all over?

"Unless…" Uther paused, thinking. Quickly, he pressed the buzzer on his desk, and murmured into the microphone,

"Fetch Arthur for me." Merlin's eyes widened, he opened his mouth to question Uther when the door was flung open. Uther smiled at his son, and announced,

"You can be Arthur's assistant."

"What?!" Merlin and Arthur both shouted immediately, Merlin jumping up out of his chair and Arthur running to his father.

"Father, look, I don't need an assistant, especially not this idiot who's completely _shit_ at everything, have you seen him try to fight, it's hilarious, what help could he possibly be-"Arthur argued loudly, while Merlin was simultaneously pleading with Uther,

"You know what, sir, it's alright, it doesn't look like your son – Arthur - needs me anyway, so I'll go now, I don't want to -"

"Shut up!" Uther roared. Merlin took a step back, Arthur just rolled his eyes.

"That is my final word! Arthur. You're my only son. Have you even begun to realise how much I worry about sending you away to fight with these sorcerers who could have you dead in seconds, without any constant backup?"

"Backup?" Arthur cried incredulously, "You think this idiot is going to help defend me? Are you insane, he's just-"

"Merlin might not be set to deal with the field just yet, and until he's ready he'll help you here, in the office, he'll be good at his job and you're going to need some help," Uther finished. Merlin glanced at Arthur. He looked livid. Uther raised an eyebrow at Arthur. It wasn't as if his son had any choice in the matter, Uther just needed a confirmation.

"Fine," Arthur snapped. Uther turned to Merlin, who was hastily trying to compose himself and sit down.

"You can leave now," Uther told him, "Start on Monday, knock on Arthur's door and he'll get you sorted."

* * *

"Three nipples! _Three nipples! _It was insane! She saw me looking down, because, you know, usually it's just two…obviously…but anyway, she said in a kind of bored voice, like she'd said it so many times already, take it or leave it…" Gwaine paused for effect, grinning up at his audience. Elyan watched him with a mixture of disgust and shock, Leon was laughing, Percival was just shaking his head wearily.

"So…" prompted Leon, "Did you take it or not?"

"What do you think?" Gwaine asked.

"You did not take that," Elyan said forcefully, "No fucking way."

"Yeah, he did," Percival challenged, "He's Gwaine, the more the better."

"Not with freaks like that," Leon said, "No, you just ran off."

"Ran off? You're kidding, right?" Gwaine chuckled, "I stayed there and fucked her tits! Two, three, four nipples…so what?"

"That, Gwaine," Lancelot said, as he approached his friends and shoved Gwaine jokily as he sat down on the small gardens outside the C.A.M.E.L.O.T offices, "Is disgusting." Leon and Elyan laughed, Percival grinned.

"Hey, it's not that bad. And she must have liked it anyway, because she's coming to the party tonight," Gwaine said.

"You're bringing Eira?" Leon said quickly.

"Yeah," shrugged Gwaine.

"You don't think it will look a bit weird if you bring a girl to my party, and I don't?" Leon said.

"Everyone else is," Gwaine said, slightly uncertain as he glanced at his friends.

"Seriously? I'm the only one without a date?" Leon exclaimed, "Wait, Lance, who're you going with?"

"Hopefully with Gwen," Lancelot smiled; hope dancing in his warm eyes, "I haven't asked her yet though. She'll say yes. I think."

"Percival?"

"Mithian," Percival grinned, "She's the girl from the summer ball, remember?"

"Right," Leon sighed, "Elyan can't come, so that just leaves –"

"Arthur!" Gwaine shouted, as he saw his blond friend leaving the building. Arthur turned at the mention of his name, his blue eyes bright in the direct sunlight.

"Come here!" Leon yelled. Arthur hesitated, then jogged across the perfectly cut grass, his muscular arms moving slightly with his momentum.

"Have you got a date for my birthday party?" Leon demanded.

"No," Arthur frowned, "Should I?"

"No, that's fantastic!" Leon beamed, "We can be pathetic losers together!"

"Right," Arthur said slowly, "Well I've got to go. I'll see you at eight, right?"

"Yeah, see you," Leon said, and joined in, laughing, with the other C.A.M.E.L.O.T employees as they teased Gwaine about his three-nippled date.

* * *

Gwen ran a hand down her dress, smoothing it carefully, her fingers lightly pressing the soft, pink fabric between them. She eyed herself in the mirror. She couldn't help smiling, just a little, at her reflection. It was not often that Gwen had the opportunity to dress up, she rarely wore makeup or did something elaborate with her hair, so glancing at the girl in the mirror did not feel like she was glancing at herself. Her dress was a pale pink, light and floating, which complimented her darker skin. Her makeup was carefully applied, in natural colours of browns and reds, and her hair was tied in a bun, a few curls of dark hair falling down her face.

Alone in the house, a calm, peaceful atmosphere had settled, so Gwen jumped when she heard a key twisting in the lock, and hurried downstairs to see her best friend. The moment Gwen saw Morgana's face, she knew something was wrong, and her heart pounding, she murmured,

"Morgana?"

Morgana smiled feebly, closing the door behind her. Gwen ran down the last few steps, urgently.

"Morgana, what's wrong?" she said, desperate. And with her friend's exigency to find out what was troubling her, Morgana broke. Tears flooded the rims of her eyes, and her voice wobbled like jelly.

"I have magic," she whispered, a single tear pearling on her face, "I know I do, and there's nothing that can stop it." Gwen gasped, wrapping her arms around her best friend tightly.

"But Morgana," Gwen urged as she pulled away, "What happened? How do you know?" Morgana swallowed, and with a gentle sigh explained what she had experienced at the supermarket. Gwen frowned.

"But Morgana…if it's just an eye colour…" Gwen tried to reason hesitantly. Morgana shook her head.

"No, Gwen. As soon as I looked into his eyes, the whole dream flashed through my mind. Something inside me just told me that this is it, magic. His eyes, and the waterfall were _exactly_ the same, nothing, nothing at all was different, it was flawless. It's almost like I saw the future," Morgana tried to explain.

"I - I don't know what to say. But whatever happens, you know you can trust me, right?" Gwen asked. Her smile was kind and reassuring, but Morgana could see in her eyes Gwen was just as scared as she was. Morgana nodded gratefully.

"Who was he?" Gwen said.

"I don't know," Morgana whispered.

"Listen, I'll just get changed, we can have a girls night in, watch movies or something," Gwen smiled.

"But you're going to the party with Lancelot!" Morgana exclaimed, "You can't miss that for me!"

"Of course I can, this is important. Or..." Gwen paused, thinking over her idea. "Why don't you come with me?!" Morgana laughed gently.

"I can't just turn up," she smiled.

"Sure you can. It's a group of Lancelot's friends; he said it was going to be a big party at his mate Leon's house. I think anyone's invited." Morgana bit her lip.

"What happens if I do magic?" she murmured, her eyebrows creased in worry.

"You won't. Trust yourself, and it won't happen. Besides, you don't want me to miss my chance of getting off with Lancelot, do you?" Gwen grinned, her tongue cheekily poking out between her lips.

* * *

"Go and talk to her!" Arthur urged Leon, nodding towards a girl in the corner of the room, sipping wine and laughing with her friend. Leon hesitated.

"You don't think she's fit?" Gwaine frowned, jumping in on the seat beside his two friends.

"Yeah…"Leon hedged, "But what if she thinks I'm not?"

"Course she won't! Go on!" Gwaine encouraged, slapping Leon on the back as he shakily got up.

"I'm going to get a drink," Arthur said, standing and stretching. He dodged through the many people dancing and bustling around, and reached the hallway. The door gave a sharp _ping._

"Shit!" Gwaine cursed from behind him.

"What?"

"That's probably Eira!"

"So?"

"I have a naked girl waiting upstairs for me to get some chocolate sauce and lick it off her!" Gwaine groaned, and ran upstairs immediately. Rolling his eyes, Arthur opened the door. His eyes ran over the girl with her finger on the doorbell, and magnetically fell on the woman behind her. He froze.

"Can we come in?" the other girl smiled hesitantly. Without lifting his gaze, Arthur stood back to let her in. Unblinking, he stared at the girl from the supermarket. She was wearing a stunning green dress, which showed her figure discreetly it tightened around her chest and waist but flew gracefully down just above her knee. The colour, an exquisite emerald green, complimented her eyes. As she reached the door, her eyes met Arthur's, and she seemed to force back a gasp. She made her way into the living room, and Arthur stood with the door still open, forcing himself to breath.

* * *

"Gwen, I have to go, that was the guy from the supermarket!" Morgana hissed into her friend's ear. Gwen's eyes widened.

"You're…you're sure?" she said.

"Definitely!"

"Well, he's hot," Gwen said, which Morgana found very unhelpful. She could see that.

"Listen, Gwen, I've just got to leave," Morgana sighed, and turned.

"Why?" Arthur said. Morgana stopped immediately. She was standing just in front of him. They were so close they were almost touching, pressed together by the crowd surrounding them. He was slightly taller than she was, her eyelashes almost tickling his cheekbones. Up close, Morgana could truly appreciate just how handsome he was, and she tried to focus on breathing in, out, in out.

"Why do you have to leave?" he repeated. His expression was serious; his eyes were washing over her face, burning into her.

"I-" she began, but stopped. She tried to move past him, but he moved with her.

"I don't want to let you to go again," he grinned. Morgana couldn't think of anything to say, her mind was numbing and she was finding it difficult to swallow.

"What's your name?" he smiled. She exhaled.

"Morgana," she replied awkwardly.

"I'm Arthur," he grinned, and held out his hand. Morgana stared at it for a few moments too long. Tentatively, nervously, but with certain determination, she reached out her fingers, and slipped them between his.

"Can I get you a drink? Maybe a ham salad too? " Arthur offered cheekily, to which Morgana couldn't help but laugh.

"Kitchen," Arthur directed, and led her through the rhythm of people swaying to the thrum and thumping of the beat. The kitchen was almost empty, the food reduced to scraps of sandwich fillings and the occasional curled crisp abandoned in a bowl.

"I had no idea you'd be here tonight," Arthur smiled in disbelief, opening random cupboards as he searched for the bread.

"Try the bench," Morgana nodded towards a loaf of bread unopened on the kitchen surface. She smiled to herself as Arthur paused awkwardly.

"I knew that," he said quickly, grabbing the loaf and tearing it open. He found a tub of butter in the fridge, and layered it on the bread thickly, frowning as he tried to spread it evenly.

"Are you finding that difficult?" Morgana teased.

"No," Arthur said immediately. He placed strip of ham on the buttered bread, and his eyes scanned over the contents of the fridge.

"No salad, looks like this is it," Arthur announced. They both lowered their gaze to linger on the unappealing sandwich splattered with breadcrumbs and butter crawling up the crusts.

"I guess I have to eat this now, don't I?" Morgana sighed.

"Nah," Arthur replied, shaking his head, "I just wanted to talk to you." Morgana smiled. She realised she had been subconsciously drawing closer to him. His eyes were as bright as she had remembered, sparkling even in the dim light of the neglected kitchen.

"Do you want to go out with me some time?"Arthur asked so suddenly that Morgana's immediate response was,

"No!"

"What? Why?" Arthur said. His brows were creasing, his mouth pressing tightly. Morgana smiled.

"I – Arthur, I barely even know you," Morgana laughed.

"There's someone else, isn't there?" Arthur demanded. Morgana shook her head in disbelief.

"You're just too proud to accept a girl said no to you!"

"That's…that's entirely irrelevant!" Arthur spluttered.

"You can't admit you don't understand why a girl didn't pass out when you asked her out!" Morgana cried, laughing yet a new found irritation growing.

"You didn't eat my sandwich!" Arthur yelled. Morgana blinked.

"What?"

"I tried to make you a nice sandwich, but you just completely – " Arthur began loudly.

"You call that a sandwich?" Morgana laughed harshly.

"You know what; I don't want to go out with you anymore!" Arthur exclaimed.

"Fine!"

"Fine!"

* * *

**A/N So! More Armor in this...an introduction to the knights...review?**


	3. Fantastic

**A/N Hey everyone...I know this is absurdly late to update. I barely got any feedback last time, and I was so busy already so I didn't have much motivation, and writing it seemed more like a chore, it just hang over me like something else I have to do. Please, PLEASE review, otherwise this will probably happen again. **

**Anyway, once I got writing it was fun, and I hope you like it!**

* * *

_Sorry I had to leave the party early. I talked to the guy I saw at the supermarket…he was an arrogant bastard and I didn't see the point in hanging around anymore. You and Lancelot seemed to be having a good time. How did it go?_

_Aww I'm sorry. Lancelot said Arthur's always cocky and way too confident. You should just forget about him. Yeah, it was fantastic! When I left he kissed me! Do you think you can drop it off at his house? It's on the way to your dad's and it would be a HUGE help. X _

Morgana smiled as she read Gwen's scribbled note, written in reply to the one she had scrawled last night. She took the pen balancing on top of Lancelot's wallet, and wrote:

_Sure. That's great about the kiss! Talk more when I get back – I should be home by about 4. Bye x_

Morgana grabbed the wallet, and slipped it in the pocket of her jacket. Stifling a yawn, she opened the front door, quietly so as not to wake Gwen, and stepped outside.

It was a cool, crisp morning. The sky was a dull white, grey in places, and the wind was harsh as it skimmed the branches of the trees. An eerie fog hung in the lower parts of the air, heavy and depressing. It had rained the previous night, the pavement was slightly damp, the grass wet, droplets of water sliding down cars. Morgana wrapped her coat tightly around her as she made for her car, stabbing the unlock button and hurrying inside. She began to drive, the warm air formulating inside her car draping around her like a blanket.

In half an hour, she had reached Lancelot's house. It was fairly large, the bricks a dark red which seemed to breed warmth. The front garden was beautiful; perfectly cut grass which seemed to shine with different shades of green, majestic hedges which arched the front door and vibrant flowers winking at Morgana. She flitted out of the car and strode, shivering, to the front door. She gave it a tentative knock. Within seconds, it was pulled open.

"Hi, Morgana," Lancelot smiled. Morgana could see what Gwen saw in him. He was tall, very handsome, an envious amount of gorgeous wavy hair and a killer smile.

"You left this," Morgana said, removing his wallet from her pocket, "Gwen picked it up."

"I wondered where that got to. Thanks." Morgana nodded in acknowledgment.

"Listen…" Lancelot began, but stopped suddenly. He seemed nervous.

"Yes?" Morgana encouraged.

"Do you think – I'm not sure if - did Gwen have a good time?" Lancelot gabbled. Morgana laughed, smiling.

"She said it was fantastic," Morgana told him, and Lancelot beamed, his cheeks swelling with colour.

"Well…that's…." Lancelot tried, but appeared unable to find words. Morgana raised her eyebrows.

"Just tell her I did too," Lancelot grinned. Morgana smiled, and turned to leave. Just as she reached her car, another pulled up beside it. It was a sleek, black Mercedes gliding smoothly on the road. Morgana couldn't help eyeing the car as she opened the door to her own.

"Morgana?" a voice said. She turned, and her eyes widened. Arthur shut the driver's door, and walked closer to Morgana, locking the door behind him without averting his gaze from Morgana's wary expression.

"Yes?" Morgana said curtly.

"Um, about last night," Arthur said, taking a deep breath, "I'm sorry, I was a jerk…I was pushy and rude and I…I don't know, I guess I just really like you." Morgana was stunned. Arthur's eyes were sincere, burning with a fierce intensity.

"It's ok…don't worry about it….I'm sorry too –" Morgana began hesitantly.

"No, don't apologize, you don't have anything to say sorry for," Arthur interrupted, "You were great last night." Morgana's astonishment grew. Arthur was humbling himself, complimenting her, smiling at her.

"You were hilarious," Morgana smiled, "Your sandwich was…fantastic…"

"Yes, it was. Maybe I should pursue a career in sandwich-making," Arthur teased. His blue eyes were twinkling mischievously.

"I would love to be your first customer," Morgana laughed.

"And probably last," Arthur nodded tragically.

"Hey Arthur! Are you ready?" Lancelot yelled from the front step. He slammed the door shut and jogged down the drive.

"Yeah," Arthur muttered. Morgana bit her lip. She didn't know what to say, but felt if she didn't say something now, she might never see him again. She opened her mouth to speak, but shut it again, feeling foolish. She couldn't remember being so suddenly lost for words before, and that thought almost scared her.

"Bye, then," Arthur grinned. His proud, brash expression was back, but stirring inside her, Morgana sensed an absurd attraction for it. All his features – his sharp cheekbones, his rosy lips, his _eyes_ all seemed to be drawing her closer to him.

"Bye," she murmured. With a small, electrified smile, Arthur leant forward and brushed his lips against her cheek. Throwing her an impish wink, Arthur turned and slipped in his car, Lancelot smiling knowingly and climbing into the passenger seat. Morgana released an amazed sigh, and her anticipation building, beamed to herself as she watched the Jaguar disappear around the corner.

"Hi, Morgana," Gorlois smiled.

"Hi, Dad," Morgana grinned, wrapping her arms around him in a quick embrace. It was only when they drew apart that she noticed something was wrong. Bags hung under his eyes, grey and lined and depressed. His eyes themselves were red and bloodshot, and looked almost crazed in the dim light of his hallway. His mouth drooped at the sides, causing a permanently sad expression. Stubble dotted his cheeks, but rough and unattractive, like he hadn't shaved in weeks. Even his hair was unkempt and grubby, longer than she had ever seen it.

"Dad…are you ok?" Morgana frowned. He tried to smile, but Morgana saw this more as a grimace.

"I'm fine, of course I am," he said quickly. Morgana had trouble deflecting her worried gaze from his lined face.

"So, what do you want for lunch?" Gorlois said brightly, "I brought pizza, is that ok for you?"

"Sure," Morgana nodded.

"You want to feed the ducks?" Gorlois asked as he led her into the kitchen.

"I'm not four anymore, Dad," Morgana smiled.

"I know, but you still like it. Catch!" Gorlois chucked a loaf of bread at his daughter, who caught it swiftly in her arms. Morgana was happy he seemed to have cheered up, so she stepped through the kitchen and opened the back door.

The forest enveloped her the moment her foot left the gleaming floor of the kitchen and landed softly on warm earth. Her vision seemed to turn from the oranges and whites of the furniture and walls to dark greens, light greens, violet and magenta flowers, darkening browns. Morgana sniffed appreciatively as the scent of the forest overwhelmed her, moist and natural and fresh. She didn't get to see her dad that often, as they were both busy with work and university, but when she did, not only was it lovely to see her father, she felt at home in the quiet, atmospheric world of the forest. It was where she had grown up after all.

She ambled slowly through the fallen twigs and piles of leaves until she reached the heart of the forest. Gleaming brightly in the middle was a large pond, and a few ducks quacked happily as they splashed in the cool water. Sitting down on the ground and breaking apart the bread, Morgana glanced up at her father's house. She could see him clearly, putting the pizza in the oven and collected plates from the cupboard. Even from the forest, she felt she could see the lines of worry etched on his forehead.

"What's wrong with him?" she murmured, sprinkling bread crumbs to the ducks. Suddenly, she heard a crack. Her eyes flashing up immediately, she thought she saw a figure slip behind a tree in the distance, a spark of gold whip through the air a second later. She stood up, her heart pounding. Who would be here? Her dad's house was the only one situated at this end of the forest for miles. She stared at the spot until her eyes began to water, and gave up. She must have imagined it.

"It's ready!" Morgana jumped at the sound of her father calling her through the open window.

"Ok!" Morgana yelled in response, and made her way back inside. Gorlois placed the sizzling pizza on the table, and served Morgana a slice of pepperoni.

"So how's university?" Gorlois asked.

"It's good," Morgana murmured, taking a bite of the burning food, "I'm loving it. English is good, really good. And all the people are great too."

"Are you still living with Gwen?" Morgana nodded, swallowing.

"She's lovely. She's taking medicine, isn't she?" Gorlois asked.

"Yeah. I've met the professor – Gaius – he's really nice. Gwen's hoping he'll get her a work placement by graduation."

They finished lunch fairly quickly, and Morgana pulled off her shoes and glided upstairs to go to the toilet. As she came out of the bathroom, her eyes skimmed over the door to her father's bedroom. She turned her head away, but then stopped. Maybe she would find the answer to her father's stress in there. Biting her lip hesitantly, but still determined, Morgana pulled the handle and slipped inside.

First, shock washed over her as she looked at the room in disgust. It was the messiest she had ever seen it – clothes strewn over the floor, his bed-covers rolled in a ball, food scattered on the windowsill and near the bin. She stepped forward, and gasped in pain. A shard of glass and pierced her foot, a bead of blood trickling down her skin. Bending over, Morgana saw a broken picture frame dispersed on the mess of clothes lining the floor. Careful not to cut herself again, she picked it up and frowned as she took the picture from the tangle of broken glass.

A woman stared back at her. She was pretty, big blue eyes and shining blond hair. Morgana sucked in air. Who was this woman? Why did her father have her framed? Morgana took a picture of the woman on her phone, and left the room. Somewhere in her stomach, a hole was gaping open. Was this her mother? She had never known, Gorlois had never mentioned her and Morgana learnt not to ask. Or was this someone else? Her father's lover, perhaps? Morgana shook her head desperately.

"Dad, I've got to go," she called, as she slipped her shoes back on.

"Already?" her father said. He had hurried into the hallway; he looked distressed and anxious that she was leaving. Morgana felt a pang of guilt, but she felt too confused and strained to stay.

"Yeah, I said I'd meet up with Gwen in an hour, I'm already late. I'll see you soon." Gorlois nodded.

"Bye, then," he said, hugging her briefly as she planted a kiss on his prickly cheek.

"Goodbye," Morgana replied, and rushed out of his house. She glanced back as she walked towards her car, admiring the luxurious house and the ever-growing forest she could see above the roof.

Someone grasped her arm.

Morgana gasped.

She turned, and locked eyes with Morgause.

"I've seen you on television," Morgana whispered, "You're the person who knows about Uther!"

"You must come quickly, Morgana," Morgause said, "I have something very important to tell you." Morgause dragged Morgana through the side alley of Gorlois' house, and into the edge of the forest where they could not be seen from the house.

"How do you know my name?" Morgana panted, tugging her arm away.

"I do not have time to explain. But I can answer the question burning inside of you."

"What question?" Morgana said. Her frown was shifting her face to an expression of disbelief and fear.

"Who the woman in the picture is. Show me." Morgana gasped.

"How…how on earth do you know that?" she asked frantically.

"I don't have time. Please, show me the picture on your phone. I need to be sure," Morgause encouraged. Her fingers trembling, Morgana took her phone out her pocket and held it for Morgause to examine. She seemed to nod to herself.

"That woman is my mother."

"Your mother?" Morgana cried, "You said she died and broke your father's heart!"

"She did. His heart is already beginning to dissolve."

"Whose heart?"

"My father's. Gorlois."

Morgana swallowed.

"What…Gorlois isn't…what…how?" Morgana gulped back more questions and stared into Morgause's eyes. Now she looked closely, she realised they were the same shape as her own.

"You understand, don't you Morgana? I'm your half-sister."

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**So...? Review, review, review! **


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